


Sorry, Right Number

by Blink23



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Real Madrid CF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink23/pseuds/Blink23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When James gets Sergi's number one night, he thinks this luck is finally changing. When the number ends up being a fake that really belongs to a German transplant to Madrid, he thinks he should've seen it coming. And when the German guy in question ends up being better than anything he could ever dream up, he thinks the dating gods have a really screwed up sense of humor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

James is smitten.

This guy is cute, with big blue eyes and curls. He's been smiling at James all night, listening intently whenever he talks. He gives up his number easily, scribbling it down on a napkin along with his name ( _Sergi_ , god even his name...), handing it over easily when James leaves to catch the last metro home.

He doesn't call him right away. Isco complains that it's stupid, how he won't shut about this awesome guy he met in the bar but refuses to call him, but he can't. It just doesn't feel like the right time. He doesn't want to appear too eager, or like he's desperate. Finally, after a week and Lucas threatening to throw his phone out, he decided to text him that night.

_Hey, It's James from the bar. I was wondering if you want to do drinks or something?_

He's not expecting to get an immediate response, but his phone starts ringing and he answers it a little breathless.

“Hello?”

The voice that answers isn't the guy from the bar. It's softer, his accent heavier and clearly not Spanish, thought not unpleasant.

“I don't mean to be mean or anything, but you got duped.”

“What?”

“This guy – I have no idea who he is, but he's an asshole. He's been giving my number out to random guys he hits on in bars. Dude's a dick.”

It feels like a punch in the gut. Really, though, why would James ever have something so nice happen to him? He's had shitty luck with men since he came to Spain.

“Oh. Well, um. I'm sorry for bothering you. You could've just texted back, you know.”

“Seriously, don't feel bad. It just sucks, you know? That's why I wanted to call. He apparently decided to memorize my number as his fake for some reason, so I get texted all the time. Last week I had some guy screaming at me through text for hours talking about how I was a lying asshole. I had to call him to prove it wasn't me, so I figured calling out right would save some time incase this happened again.”

“I don't know why I'm surprised, to be honest. Every time I try to meet someone they're either crazy or lying to me.”

The guy on the other side of the line chuckled, “You're preaching to the choir, you know. Men are terrible at making it obvious their not interested, I guess.”

“Right? How hard is it to tell me to get lost. So many of my friends complain about their girlfriends and all I can do is roll my eyes sometimes.”

“To be fair, this dude's a weirdo, though. Like I seriously think he gets off on fucking with people. Either that or he's someone I know who hates me.”

“Well, your voice is nice. I don't think it's that.”

“...You're gonna believe I'm nice because of my voice?” 

“Well- I mean, you sound nice, and you called me just so I wouldn't be left hanging so I guess you're nice?”

James winced at how awkward he felt. _Really moron, you sound nice?_ Ugh.

“Thanks, I guess. Look, I have to go. My editor gonna kill me If I don't finish this article so I need to actually work.”

“I'll let you get back then. Thanks for calling to explain things.”

“No problem. And seriously, we're not all dicks, just remember that.”

James chuckled, “I will. Thanks again.”

The both said their goodbyes and James dropped his phone onto his couch, scrubbing his face with his hands. 

He should've figured something like this would happen. His friend's didn't call him to dateless wonder for no reason after all. Every time he got into a situation like this the guy was either a huge liar or crazy.

At least the guy who he had called was nice. Really, why couldn't he meet a guy like that? He seemed sweet, even going to extra mile to call him and tell him he'd been screwed over, and then listening to him whine. Knowing James's luck, though, he's probably missing all his teeth and thinks that immigrants from South America are ruining the EU's economy and going to cause a portal to the underworld to open up or something.

His phone beeped suddenly, a chime from an incoming text.

_You have a really nice voice too, just so you know._

 

 

Really, James should've left him alone after that.

It's only normal, since he was just doing the decent thing by calling him and explaining what happened with the number instead of just leaving James clinging on to hope, but he doesn't.

His name is Toni. He was born in East Germany, but once reunification happened his family moved to Leverkusen, and then to Munich where he grew up and went to university. He moved to Spain after he got a job reporting on the Bundesliga for a paper in Madrid. He has dogs, Julius and Lennox, who he's mildly obsessed with and sends about a million pictures to James on a daily basis to help him get through the boring work day. 

James should think it was weird, knowing what this guys dogs look like, but not their owner, but it's honestly something he's never thought about. Toni's nice, and they go back and forth, and that's that. It's nice, to have someone who's completely removed from his life, to complain to about work or his friends, and offer objective advice. He realizes he probably shouldn't take advice from strangers but it's not like they are, not really.

Honestly, it's no different from a friend giving his number to someone, or online dating, no matter what Isco said. And Isco has a lot to say, that's for sure.

Isco's opinion on the situation comes to a head when he has a ridiculously flirty english guy (Joe, or so he claimed with a cheeky wink) come up to him in the bar one day and James turns him down without ant sort of hesitation.

“Come on!” Isco sighs, once James' walked back to his friends with their drinks and explained what Joe wanted, “You can't honestly tell me that you're not interested at all.”

“Nope,” James shrugs, “It's just... weird. The guy heard me speak and suddenly wants me in his bed? And I'm supposed to be into that?”

“Yes?”

James rolls his eyes. “Well, I should've given him your number then. I not interested in any of it.”

Keylor snorted, “I wonder why...”

“How is mystery lover anyway?” Isco asked, smirking, “Still jerking it to the sound of his voice?”

“Ugh, really?”

“Hey, the truth hurts,” Isco says, taking a pull from his guinness, “You just had a ridiculously hot Englishman come up to you, hit on you pointblank, and you turned him down when you haven't been laid in months over some dude who's probably hideous.”

“You don't know that.”

“You honestly think he's gonna keep this from you if he is? I mean, James, come on...”

James ignored them, typing out a text on his phone under the table. 

_Pls kill me_

_that bad?_

_I've heard about my sexy accent from drunk english guys on a stag. I hate Irish pubs._

_Yeah the bars and clubs here are so weird. I've got to take you to Germany. Not nearly as bad, even the touristy ones._

It wasn't the first time Toni had mentioned wanting to take him the Germany, and it sure as hell wasn't the first time his stomach flopped pleasantly or his head conjured up ridiculous images at the thought.

_This is what I get for hanging out so close to sol I guess._

_You're around sol?_

_Yeah, Calle de Cadiz. The pub on the corner._

The message was read instantly, but he took a good few minutes before he began to type a response. By then, Isco was done with his rant, and He and Marcelo had gone on to picking apart Isco's love life.

_We're here too. Near the front by the windows._

James whipped his head around, standing up from the table and knocking it slightly with his thigh. He ignored Marcelo's yelp and Isco scrambling to grab his glass before it was tipped over.

There was only one group of people up front, and only one of those were looking around like a man possessed.

He was cute. Sergi had had that male model look to him, the kind that made you feel sort of ugly while next to them. Toni was way more approachable yet still very handsome. Blonde, about the same height as James, nice jawline, light eyes, and Definitely James' type.

The ten or so steps it took James to get to him felt like kilometers.

“James?”

“Toni?”

“...Wait, how the hell are you single?”

James couldn't hold in his giggles, and the two guys behind him he assumed were his friends laughed too.

“That... was not supposed to come out of my mouth.” An adorable blush covered his cheeks and James smiled.

“It's fine.”

“I, Um. This is Thiago and Mario,” He gestured to his two friends, “they're here on a visit from Germany. And also to watch me embarrass myself, I guess.”

“You're James then?” The shorter one James assumed was Mario asked.

“It's pronounced Ham-ez, and yeah,” He smiled, “You've been telling your friends about me?”

“All he does is talk about you!” Thiago interjected, throwing an arm around Toni's shoulder, “every other word he's said to us since we've been here has been James.”

Toni looked like he was waiting for the ground the swallow him whole, Mario and Thiago grinning at him like his discomfort was the funniest thing they've ever seen.

“Well, um. Do you want to come join us? We're waiting for Iker and Sergio and then we were going to go grab dinner, but...”

“We'd love to,” Mario said without looking at Toni, grabbing his drink and moving over the the table, Thaigo's hand in his.

“If it makes you feel better,” He murmured, watching as Thiago extended his hand to Marcelo to introduce himself, “you'll probably hear the same from my friends.” 

Toni does, of course, hear the same thing from James' friends. It even worse, really, since Thiago and Mario at least have the tact to not go on and on about Toni's lack of a love life. More than anything, though, they want to know about Toni: where he's from, what he does, who he supports (they're more than a little bit impressed he's a Madridista and apparently on a first name basis with Özil due to his job) and where he live in the city. 

It was a typical grilling for them, and it extended to Mario and Thiago, who were met with approval with just as much enthusiasm as Toni was. When Mario explained he and a friend owned a bakery, Sergio, who had since arrived with Iker, immediately began asking about wedding cakes, and when Mario admitted he could probably whip up the rather simple cake Sergio was explaining himself on a weekend visit Sergio declared they were keeping him. Thiago was basically the reverse of Toni, reporting on Spanish football for German papers, and after requests for el clasico tickets from Marcelo and laughing at his rather undignified whining about being surrounded by Madridistas it was easy to see the two Brazilians were going to be friends whether this thing with Toni became something or not. Marcelo and Lucas are stunned when Thiago explains who exactly his father is, all of them laughing when he talks about how mad he was as a kid that everyone made a big deal about the goal celebration for his brother when he got nothing.

Lucas nearly spit out his drink when he anounces his brother who was a part of the celebration, Rafinha, is working in the media department at FC Barcelona.

“You're brothers with Rafinha? Rafinha Alcântara?”

Isco looks confused, “Who's Rafinha?”

“Ooooh, I know who he is!” Marcelo cackled, rubbing his hands together and making Lucas go even redder.

“Remember the cute Brazilian culé?” He murmured, toying with his coaster, “We met when I did that internship in Vigo with the design company...”

“Cute culé sounds like an oxymoron.”

Thiago looked unimpressed at the comment, “I'm cute.”

“Yes you are honey,” Mario cooed, making everyone laugh. Thiago made kissy faces at Mario, smiling when he leaned forward to peck him on the mouth.

“He means the one he wanted to bone after a few dates but was too much of a chicken shit to do anything about.”

Lucas' eyes snapped up to Marcelo, “It wasn't like that!”

“Oh I think it was.”

"Anyway," Lucas said loudly, deflecting, “He's just... never mentioned you by name, just that he had a few brothers.”

“I'm not really surprised. Not that we're not best friends or anything,” He added, “We are. I'm more surprised that he hasn't mentioned you. You're his type.”

“Really?” Lucas looked so hopeful that James was sure Thiago would've lied even if he wasn't his brother's type.

“Of course,” Thiago said matter of factly, “I wouldn't lie to you honestly. Rafa's a good guy, I mean...”

Watching Lucas as he ate up everything Thiago told him about his brother, Toni leaned in to James a little to murmur in his ear. 

“Think they approve.”

“I think I do too.” James replied, hoping he wasn't overstepping or reading things wrong. 

Judging from Toni's surprisingly bright smile in response, he had nothing to worry about.


	2. Chapter 2

Drinks had turned into dinner, with all their friends in tow, and by the end of the night Toni asked him if he would like to do something on Thursday. They both have Fridays off, so he offers to make them both dinner at his place, and then a few drinks at the nearest bar afterwards. The whole thing is fine by James since he shares a flat with Chicha and Keylor and dinner is mostly whining who's going to go pick up pizza from the Italian place on the corner. 

Part of it is just straight up being nosey, as well. He's seen little glimpses of Toni's place from the dog pictures and it's looked beautiful, and his address is in a really nice neighborhood. 

And it is. James feels like he doesn't belong there even as he's waiting to be buzzed up, it's so nice.

Two very loud, very happy beagles greet him after Toni does, jumping all over until he bends down for scratches, and then whine and follow him around demanding more. Toni ends up banishing them to a spare bedroom so he can finish their dinner, assuring James that they'll be fine.

The flat is just as James picture it would be: modern, minimalistic, and everything in either white, black or gray. It's spotless, but James gets the feeling it's only this immaculate because he's here.

“I figured I'd make us German food since you said you've never had it? Is that alright?”

“That's perfect.”

“Awesome. There's beer and wine in the fridge, so...”

James helps himself to a beer and plants himself at the island counter, watching Toni as he moves effortlessly around the kitchen and begins to ask him about his day. Toni's making some sort of cream sauce with mushrooms and dumplings, as well as roasted pork. The sort of food James expected when he said german food, but didn't think Toni would be able to cook at home.

Midway through a story about about Toni's rather overexcitable coworker Gareth his phone goes off. 

“Can you? I'm sort of...” he lifts his hands, covered in sticky bread dumpling batter, and James slides his finger over for the message.

_hi, it's maria from last night. R u still interested in dinner, bb?_

James frowns, reading it out loud. It's a girl and he knows Toni's not interested, so why would someone have his phone?

“Just text back saying they have the wrong number. It's Sergi again.”

“Seriously?”

Toni shrugs, washing his hands, “I told you he gives out my number like it's his own.”

“Yeah but I didn't think it would be like that.”

“I'm used to it by now, really.”

“I just want to know what his deal is,” James says with a shrug, “I mean, he acted like he was really into me, too. Why give a fake?”

“Who knows, people are weird. These will be done in about 20 minutes, do you want to move into the living room?” Toni asks, and James nods and follows him to the couch.

“Honestly I'm so over the whole thing I'm thinking about changing my number. It's just such a pain in my line of work, you know? Two or three random texts a week don't seem like it's totally worth changing it for 500 people.”

James makes a face, “I had to do that when I moved here. Trust me, it's probably more annoying than the texting.”

“How did you end up in Madrid, anyway?'

“My internship in Sao Paulo,” James shrugs, “I had gone to school in Monaco at IUM and intended to stay there, but I got a summer internship doing marketing work for Adidas Brazil. I thought about staying in South America, really, but I got a call that I could go full time in Spain if I wanted, and decided coming back was my best bet. I missed Europe, and it being in Madrid with Spanish speakers was a nice bonus. I had nothing keeping me anymore anyway.”

Toni raises an eyebrow at that, “Anymore?”

“Yeah, I had David, those first few years. We met when I was in my last year of boarding school in Portugal. He was a Brazilian and when he left for university in London and we did the long distance thing for awhile. Then when he went back to Brazil for the summer I applied for every job I could and got in at Adidas. It was nice,” James admits, “but it wasn't right. Classic case of loving someone but not being in love with someone. Last I heard he was in Paris with his new boyfriend, planning their wedding.”

“I'm sorry.”

James laughs, “No! Don't be. It wasn't like it ended badly or anything. We were just-- oh my god, I'm talking about my ex during a date. I've become that guy.”

Now Toni laughed, “I asked!”

“But still,” James grimaces, “No wonder I've been single since. Maybe it is me.”

“It's not.”

“You say that, but--”

“James,” Toni says, placing his hand on his knee, “It's not. Trust me. And hey, if you feel that awkward, I could tell you about when I lost my virginity to a girl at 15 and my mom walked in.”

“You didn't.”

“I freaked out, and then proceeded to blurt out that it wasn't what it looked like because I was gay.”

“You _didn't_.”

Toni smiles at James awkwardly, “My coming out story is a good one, at least.”

James breaks into a fit of giggles. It dissolves the last clinging bit of awkwardness, and they fall back into the easy, harmless teasing and banter that made the two of them so easily comfortable with each other over text. They eat after the dumplings are done and then retire back to the couch instead of going out, neither one of them willing the break the flow of conversation that they've picked up for something as silly as a ten minute walk to the pub that's on the corner of Toni's block when they have beer at home.

Before he knows it, it's 3am and James can barely keep his eyes open.

“We never made it out,” James yawns, rubbing his eyes. He was going to have to call a cab to make it home.

“This was a better idea anyway,” Toni rolled his shoulders, standing up, “You can stay, if you'd like. I don't really have a spare bedroom now since the dogs sort of... take it over as theirs in between guests but you could just bunk up with me? Or sleep on the couch, I mean, this couch is pretty damn comfortable anyway, if you don't want to. I can fix-”

“Toni,” James interrupted, “I'll be totally okay with that. It's not like I've never slept in bed with a friends.”

“But this is...” 

He doesn't finish his sentence. James gets it though, and fixes him with a smile. “It's fine, as long as I can borrow some clothes?”

Toni's bedroom is just the same as the rest of the house, clean lines in white and gray, but it's slightly more cluttered, making him think his earlier assumption was right. Toni finds him some sweatpants and a spare toothbrush, and James uses the hall bathroom to change.

When he comes back Toni's sitting up in bed, reading. An odd feeling that settles inside his chest, knowing there's someone waiting for him in bed. It's been so long since he's had that.

James slides into bed next to him, easily filling the space to his left. He reaches for his phone on the nightstand, firing off a text to Chicha to explain where he is and check his emails to see if he has anything from work.

Toni keeps reading beside him, apparently engrossed in the book as he switches his phone to nighttime mode and sets it on the end table. James' eye droop, closing as he watches the way Toni sucks his lip in to his mouth and chews it as he concentrates.

He swears he feels a kiss being pressed to his forehead before he nods off, but he's too far gone to do anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... my initial plan was to write two more chapters of this while on my two 10+ hour plane rides to and from Europe, where I spent the last 8 weeks backpacking. Only my genius self forgot to send the half finished chapter I had to my ipad and everything I tried to write to replace it was terrible and awkward, hence the fairly large break and general short-ness of this chapter. it'll go back to normal in the next bit, I promise!


End file.
